


Virgil's Interview

by NikaylaSarae



Series: StoryTime! [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Negative Self Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaylaSarae/pseuds/NikaylaSarae
Summary: It’d been his dream to work for StoryTime! since he was a kid, and now finally, Virgil may be able to make it come true.
Series: StoryTime! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892767
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	Virgil's Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Virgil's POV of the events that happened in Chapter 3 of The Interview.
> 
> Cross-posted with minor edits from my Tumblr account @stillebesat.

Why had he ever thought this would be a good idea?

Virgil tugged at the collar of his shirt, uncomfortable in the stiff clothing he’d rented just for this interview.

He had to be twelve kinds of an idiot to believe that a huge successful company like  _ StoryTime!  _ would be interested in hiring him for his designs. His artistic style with its angular lines and hair-thin strokes put him fully in the opposite category from  _ StoryTime!’s  _ bubbly and vibrant Prince, Princess and NonBinary Royalty aesthetic.

Virgil looked up to the shining building in front of him, heart climbing into his throat once more. Sure, they said on the website that they were always open to hiring people with different visions. The fact that he’d been able to set up an interview in the first place was proof of that.

He grimaced, running a hand through his hair as he again stood to pace around the bench in the courtyard that seemed to be his new permanent home.

But what if it was a mistake? What if the person who contacted him had looked at someone else’s portfolio and then accidentally called his number instead? What if they hadn’t even looked at his portfolio at all and now he was going to be laughed out of the one place he’d been dreaming about working at since he was a kid?

Virgil paused, chewing on his bottom lip. “I got the interview though.” He whispered. “Me.” He had a chance to prove it was all worth it. He glanced at the time on his beat up phone and growled, tightening his hold on his portfolio. If he could convince himself to walk into the freaking building in the next thirty minutes that is. He could have a chance!

Virgil drew in a shaky breath. He could fulfill his dream.

If he could convince them that his designs were worth looking into. If he could show them how they could expand the  _ StoryTime! _ Brand so that they could continue reaching out to the outliers and show them that they too were worthwhile. Maybe they would hire him.

Virgil bit his lip. But what if they weren’t open to such a change? What if they laughed him out of the building? These last six years of constantly drawing, experimenting on his techniques and working a multitude of dead end jobs to earn money for more art supplies and for college courses would be...a waste.

His stomach twisted, a lump forming in his throat. What if  _ StoryTime! _ \--no, what if  _ Roman Prince  _ told him he had no talent whatsoever? His knees buckled, sending him back onto the bench.

Virgil laid his portfolio on the cool granite, burying his head into his hands, struggling to breathe. What if his family and everyone online had been lying when they said his artwork was amazing? That The Prince would be foolish to not hire him? That  _ StoryTime!  _ would welcome him and his designs in with open arms. 

He shuddered, heart sinking. 

What if he let everyone down?!

“Are you alright?”

Virgil jerked, letting out a yelp as he tumbled backwards at the unexpected voice.

A hand grabbed onto his flailing one, preventing him from hitting the grass. “Apologies,” the voice continued, pulling him back onto steadier seating. “It wasn't my intention to startle you.”

Virgil pulled away, cheeks burning as he looked up to his rescuer. “It's fine.” He mumbled, rubbing the hand the stranger had grabbed against his pant leg. He’d only been scared half to death because he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching him. Totally didn’t make him seem like a nervous wreck at all.

The man, looking more professional in a simple white shirt with rolled up sleeves, blue geometric tie, and black slacks than Virgil ever could in a suit, raised an eyebrow behind his glasses. “I highly doubt you are fine. As it has been noted that you've been out here for quite some time.”

Virgil stiffened, glancing up to the building in front of him and just as quickly dropped his head with a groan. Why hadn’t he considered that people could be watching him from there!? He must look like quite the fool to the entire company now. “Let me guess, they sent you out here to escort me off the property?” He asked getting to his feet, cradling his portfolio in his arms. It had to be a sign. A sign he wasn't wanted here.

“You would be incorrect.” The man stated calmly. “I merely saw you pacing and thought I could offer assistance.” He gestured to the portfolio. “Am I correct in assuming you are here for a job interview?”

Virgil tightened his grip on his life’s work. “Well yeah, Sherlock. Pretty sure the portfolio gave that away.” He flinched as his response registered. “Wait, please don't tell me that you're Roman Prince, and I totally just ruined this!” His day could not get any worse, but with his luck-- 

He tensed as the man smirked and adjusted his glasses. Shoot! SHOOT! It was The Prin-- 

“I’m not Roman, no, but your hesitancy to enter the building makes much more sense now.” He stated, folding his arms. “He can be rather intimidating and difficult to impress in interviews.”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back over his eyes. No kidding. He'd read the horror stories of interviews with The Prince on the forums. Hearing that they were true from someone who actually knew him did nothing for his confidence. “Great.” He shook his head. Why had he even thought he had a chance? “That doesn't help my nerves at all, dude. Why not just cut my agony short and tell me it's pointless to even go in there and face him?”

The man raised an eyebrow, adjusting his tie as he gave Virgil the once over. “I can't give a fair judgement on that unless I can see your portfolio first.” He said, holding out a hand. “May I?”

Virgil blinked, taken aback. Truthfully, he hadn’t been expecting that. He narrowed his eyes, making no move to hand over his work to this stranger just yet. “You're going to be brutally honest with me?” He asked. “No sugar coating it just so you can see me suffer The Prince treatment inside?”

“You have my word.” The man said, without hesitation, keeping eye contact as he wiggled his fingers. “I will be honest in my assessment of your potential.”

Virgil chewed the inside of his cheek, unable to find anything but sincerity in his tone. He exhaled, reluctantly holding out his work. “Alright.”

The man took it reverently and sat on the bench Virgil had been off and on warming for the past couple of hours. He gestured with his freehand to the empty space next to him. “Why don’t you sit while I look?”

Virgil shook his head. “I prefer to stand thanks.” It would be easier to book it out of here if this stranger gave him bad news.

The man shrugged, pushing his glasses up as he flipped open the portfolio to the first page, to Virgil’s resume. “So…” he said conversationally as he skimmed it. “Virgil is it? Why do you want to work for  _ StoryTime! _ ?”

Virgil snorted, shoving his hands into his suit pockets, wishing for his hoodie. “Are you interviewing me?” Shouldn’t the dude just flip through his art and pronounce his final judgement instead of questioning him?

“Officially? No.” He looked up, offering Virgil a smile. “But a bit of practice before the actual interview doesn’t hurt now does it?”

“I...suppose not.” Virgil shook his head, turning half away to look again at the  _ StoryTime! _ building. It made sense. A warm up for when he had to face The Prince couldn’t hurt. It could even help him get his thoughts together. “Well.” He exhaled. “Cliche as it sounds. I’ve followed  _ StoryTime! _ since the very beginning when Thomas Sanders just had his phone and  _ Vine _ to work with.”

“That’s quite a while.” The man remarked neutrally, carefully turning to the next page, his attention back on the portfolio. “Most people wouldn’t know what you meant if you brought up  _ Vine _ now.”

Virgil smirk. “Don’t I know it.” He’d seen his fair share of blank faces when he brought it up. “His videos there were cheesy but good natured. The fact that Thomas could create such a positive impact in six seconds was...well it impressed me. Honestly, those videos were about the only thing that got me through some of my darkest days back then. Still do even now.”

The man hummed in agreement. “He does have a knack for knowing how to make people smile.”

Virgil nodded, pacing back and forth in front of the man as he slowly turned the pages of the portfolio, taking more time and care to study them than he’d ever seen anyone else do. “And Thomas kept that ability when he started _StoryTime!_ He kept to his roots, kept to the positivity, the hopeful messages and still provided quality content without compromising his values or forgetting his fans. I just…” He sat down next to the man, tapping on a stylised version of Sir Sing-A-Lot he’d drawn after watching _Crofters: The Musical,_ making the character more willowy and angular as he bent down towards a bear cub. “I admire it. I want to be a part of it. Help others like he helped me.”

“A good goal to have, Virgil.” The man commented, fingers hovering over the drawing as he traced the swirls on the bears fur. “But you are correct on it being cliche. A lot of people have come here with similar reasons.”

Well, Virgil had never considered himself unique in that regard.

“However,” The man continued. “ _ StoryTime!  _ prefers to hire people with the intention that they’ll stay on. We’re a FamILY here. We support each other, and would prefer to have individuals who don’t give up at the first sign of trouble.”

Family. Virgil bit the inside of his lip. That would be nice. To not have people glaring at him when they thought he couldn’t see, purposely handing him the hardest jobs in hopes that he’d fail. “I’m not the sort to give up after one setback, sir. You can believe that.”

The man’s moving finger froze, and he frowned. “You don’t give up--” He thumbed back to the first page, pointing at Virgil’s Job History. “Yet, here, it shows that you’ve held quite the series of part time jobs in the last six years.” He said, looking up, freezing Virgil in place with his amber eyes. “Why is that?”

Virgil swallowed hard, pushing down the spur of panic as he fought to keep eye contact. He’d never considered that having so many jobs would be seen as detrimental. “I…” He exhaled, looking at his feet as he stood, running a hand through his hair. He could feel his dream slipping through his fingers. If this man thought he couldn’t make it here--- “I don’t give up.” He repeated softly, mentally cursing his coworkers for conspiring against him. “I took most of those jobs in the first place to save up for classes to improve my drawing and animating techniques.” He kicked at a tuft of grass, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It wasn’t my intention to stay with them long. They were just stepping stones to the end goal of coming here.”

The man pursed his lips, closing the portfolio. “I see.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold. Those were not words he wanted to hear. That usually meant that the person didn’t see at all. He clenched his hands, working to breathe steadily as he looked up to make eye contact with the man. 

“I am a hard worker, sir.” He stated forcefully, crouching in front of him, flipping his portfolio back open. “I don’t slack off. I don’t quit a job unless it quits me first. I mean.” He jabbed at his education. “You can see here that I graduated last year with a double Bachelors in Illustration and Animation, Summa Cum Laude.”

“So you have.” The man murmured his face giving away nothing of what he was thinking..

Virgil drew in another breath, focusing on his work on proving that he deserved to be here for this interview. “And here. That education didn’t go to waste.” He flipped through the portfolio to a dragon made from smoke, staring out at them with purple eyes.. “It took me a week to perfect this technique.” He said looking up, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “I burned through two sketchbooks, singed my eyebrows, and set off four fire alarms before I could get the paper to blacken correctly and create this smokey texture..” He turned the page three more times. Showing a shadowy kitten with a ball of yarn, a war-marred prince holding a broken sword, and an astronaut in a stark white suit floating in space. “Or even this!” He flipped to a later page. “This Basilisk? The scales? Their shimmer?” He looked up, faltering when he saw the man watching him intently.

“Go on.” He prodded, leaning forward, a small smile on his lips.

Virgil swallowed, looking down at his work. “I-I went to every store in the valley to find the right composite of pearlescent ink to put on these scales.” He said, “I spent hours getting it to flow just right and look.” He tilted the page, the green scales changing to white.

The man made a noise of surprise, reaching out to take the page himself, his hand brushing Virgil’s as he tilted the picture back and forth. “Amazing.” He murmured. “A casual viewer wouldn’t know you used two different shades until they moved the page. It’s a pleasant surprise.” He looked up, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, Virgil.”

Virgil straightened, flushing at the compliment. “Uh...tha-thanks.” He said, rubbing his hand against his pants as he stood back up. He hadn’t expected the man to praise him. He’d only been trying to prove that he had the chops to do well here, that his slew of jobs weren’t detrimental to his work ethic.

“So.” The word cut through Virgil’s thoughts as the man again patted the bench. “Hypothetically. If Roman were to harangue you because there is a storyboard due in fifteen minutes for presentation and you’ve drawn the main character all wrong because the MC’s look had not been made clear to you, what would you do?” He asked, eyes unreadable as Virgil hesitantly sat next to him.

What sort of test was this? Had The Prince done this before to someone? He gave the slightest shakes of his head, trying to think of something...polite to would say. 

But niceness under pressure was not a strong point of his.

”An honest answer, Virgil.” The man prodded, leaning forward, intent on him. “Your true reaction. Not what you think I want to hear.”

Virgil hesitated for half a breath, before he shrugged. He’d already put himself on the line for this guy, might as well go down in a blaze of glory. “Honestly... I would--” he clicked his tongue. “Call him nine types of an idiot for not checking in with me sooner to make sure I was on the right path, but I’d also--” He grimaced. “Be calling myself the same names for not making more of an effort to clarify the MC’s key characteristics with him. I would make an argument for keeping the current style and if I couldn’t convince Princey to go with it...then...well...” He shrugged. He already knew from the forums that The Prince could be rather mule-headed when it came altering his vision. The stubborn Perfectionist. “If I had drawn it on the computer I would sketch a couple quick MC replacements and copy/paste. Easy enough.”

“Easy enough indeed.” The man echoed, eyes glittering as he flipped the page to a market scene like unto the one from Aladdin. 

Virgil bit his lip, unable to tell if the man was humoring him or not. It didn’t feel like it...but he’d been tricked before by people he thought he could trust.

“And if it had been hand drawn?” The man prodded, once more looking up. “Roman usually likes the first storyboard presentation to be hand drawn.”

Virgil made a face. Of course he did. “Well, it would be a nightmare to redo, but I would make it work.” His lips twitched as he ran fingers through his hair. “Though I would be calling Princey a variety of bad nicknames under my breath the entire time I was redrawing them to make myself feel better.”

The man snorted, briefly covering his mouth with his hand. “I hope that they would be creative.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling despite himself. “Considering my past track record with nicknaming, I’m sure I could come up with a few good ones.” Especially if he had to redraw a whole storyboard--Virgil snapped his fingers, suddenly standing. “Come to think of it.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the Sk3tch app a roommate had created for him to hold his various school projects. “I actually had to do a similar scenario to yours in my second year of college.” He confessed, showing the man the mosaic of stained pictures on his phone. “Half an hour before our final project was due for presentation, a cotton-headed ninny muggins spilled their stale coffee all over my group’s storyboard we’d spent the last month working on and we had to quickly draw replacements..”

The man’s eyes lit up. “Really?” He asked sounding more interested than Virgil had expected, taking the phone from him. “I’ve been there myself.” He said smoothing down his tie as he scrolled through the images.

Been there himself? Was this guy one of the storyboard artists then? He had spoken of the Prince with familiarity.

“How did you do on this project, after the redraws, if I may ask?” The man asked, pausing on the replacement sketches that Virgil’s group had thrown together. They were much more stylized compared to the first batch, the strokes quick and more bold than Virgil preferred.

Virgil shrugged, gesturing offhandedly. “We managed an A-.” He said trying to not sound prideful of the fact, but really, it had been a miracle after that particular disaster.

The man whistled, handing him back the phone. “Impressive. And out of the ruined ones, how many did you personally redraw?”

How many? “Uhmm.” He looked away, mentally calculating as he tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Me personally, I took around twenty of them.”

“Twenty? In half an hour?”

Virgil ducked his head, cheeks warming as he kicked at tuft of grass. Yah, not many people believed he could work so quickly. “Yes. I was the quickest at the line art in that group. The other four divided up the remaining thirty between them.”

Logan blinked, giving a soft laugh. “Once again, Virgil. Impressive.”

He really hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt right now. “It...wasn’t...well...umm... thanks.” He hunched his shoulders. He definitely wasn’t used to people complimenting him in person and this guy had already done so multiple times and he barely knew him! 

“It is impressive, Virgil.” The man repeated, leaning forward. “Not many people here could do such a quick turn around.” He said, thumbing through through the portfolio stopping on a Sallyized version of Jack Skellington. He smirked, tapping the picture. “Nor would many dare to call Roman an idiot to his face. He could probably use more of an ego check from time to time.”

“Well,” Virgil spread his arms, offering his own smile. “I’m sure I could give Princey that ego check, if he needed it. I’m quite used to being the villain.”

The man jerked his head up, his dark eyes piercing through Virgil for what had to be seconds, but felt like an eternity.

He slowly lowered his hands under the scrutiny, eyes widening as his words echoed back in his head. Shoot! SHOOT! He hadn’t meant to reveal that!

“Your drawing style is rather unique compared to  _ StoryTime! _ ’s usual stuff.” The man said slowly, searching Virgil’s face. “You tend to draw in darker color schemes, use thinner lines, and showcasing typically good characters as your villains.” He said, flipping through the portfolio to point out Virgil’s Evil Princess dressed in green and black while holding a fractured scepter before turning to a thin angular baker pulling skull cookies out of the oven. “While using the typical hero shapes of circles and squares on your villains.” He gestured to a square jawed vampire, pulling children from a burning home. “Why do you think this sort of thing could be a fit for  _ StoryTime! _ ?”

Virgil clenched his shaking hands, hoping that this guy hadn’t noticed, even though he probably had. “Well…” He drew in a shallow breath. He could save this. He could save this. Just draw the man’s attention away from his personal statement. Easy.

He took another shallow breath. “There’s... been a surge in people empathizing with the bad guys recently. Wanting to know their backstory, see what caused them to go...well... bad.” He said, moving to cautiously sit on the bench next to the man. “Even Disney’s caught onto that fact.”

The man hummed, tilting his head. “Go on.”

Virgil licked his dry lips, leaning closer to the man in order to flip to his later works that better showcased his series of misunderstood villains.

While he had included the more typical fairytale ‘happy’ artwork to show he could be versatile, it was rather obvious his main inspiration came from more of the  _ Nightmare Before Christmas, Coraline,  _ and _ Corpse Bride _ though a discerning eye would see the influences of Disney’s underappreciated Post-Renaissance Era as well.

“You can see it with Disney choosing to retell Sleeping Beauty with Maleficent’s backstory as the main focus.” He said, gesturing to his softer smaller version of her in dragon form, curled around a broken spindle. “They already have firm plans to do a similar thing with 101 Dalmatians and Cruella and maybe with Ursula in the Little Mermaid or the Evil Queen in Snow White. It’s a trend that  _ StoryTime! _ should jump onto and take charge of.”

Virgil tapped his portfolio empathetically as the man stayed silent. “Because no one and I mean No. One. Else. is better at turning tropes on their heads than  _ StoryTime!  _ is.” He pointed to the building. “From the very beginning, you’ve twisted plots into unexpected directions, created morally grey characters that the audience should expect to hate, only for them to come out of the theatres ardent supporters of them, praising your plotlines and attention to details and I...”

He looked up to see the man staring at him with a fond smile and jerked his hand back, self conscious on how he’d been blabbering on.

“And you?” The man asked in a gentle tone.

Virgil looked away, placing his hands in his lap. “And I think telling stories from the villain's point of view could be  _ StoryTime! _ ’s next big break and…” He bit his lip, taking a steadying breath as he looked back up. “I would love to be a part of it, if given the chance.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, slowly closing the portfolio, holding it lightly in his hands as he stared at  _ StoryTime!’s  _ front doors.

Virgil fidgeting at the silence, sensing this pseudo interview was over. Had he proven himself to this guy? Had he shown that he had the chops to do well here? Or had he just confirmed he wouldn’t make it? His stomach twisted as his doubts came back in full force. 

“Well?” He asked, unable to take the quiet any longer as he held out his hand to take his portfolio back. “Do you think I have a chance in my interview with Princey?”

The man made no move to return his work. Instead he slowly looking up, meeting his eyes. “Virgil.” He said quietly. “I’m going to have to say-”

His heart sank as Virgil braced himself for the rejection. This was it. This was the moment he was told it was all for nothing. That he had wasted his time. That--

The man gave him a warm smile. “That you’re hired.”


End file.
